the process. And what
was his problem anyway? So she was pretty. So what? His heart still
bore open sores from the agony Rosemary had inflicted.
No, this arrangement was for the best. In
the long run, Jubilee would have a home, and she’d be a good
housekeeper, laundress, and gardener. Yes, this was for the best.
She was just his…employee, that was all. He had to keep that in
mind. She’d recover, and would realize all of this was for the
best. He’d just about convinced himself of this when she snuffled.
She was crying under that quilt. He frowned and grunted.
He was definitely a mean, low-down sack of
bones, that’s what he was. He gave a heavy sigh and shook his head.
It’d take a miracle to right this situation, and Rafe wasn’t sure
he believed in them anymore.
CHAPTER SIX
Despite Rafe’s misgivings, life fell into a
pattern on the farm with Jubilee. He saw little of her during the
first few weeks, as if she were hiding out. He had no doubt she
was, but he found plenty to keep himself busy. He’d stored the food
items for Jubilee in the cabin, noting her distance with some
amusement as he carried in the huge bags.
His first project was repairing the hole in
the roof. Then he finished reconstructing the entire front porch.
Happy with the outcome, he decided the time had been well spent.
Still, he knew he had to get at the fields. The new pair of oxen
he’d invested in would be a great improvement over Jubilee’s
one-man shoveling team.
Rafe rounded the house with his axe,
intending to cut more firewood before harnessing the oxen to the
plow. When his eyes fell to the woodpile, he stopped short. The
height remained nearly the same as last week. Did the woman use any
fuel? The back door swung open and Jubilee gave a start, her eyes
huge.
“Mornin’.” He dipped his head in greeting,
wondering at the same time if she would ever meet him without
fear.
She bit her lip as she eyed the axe.
“Morning.”
He motioned to the stack. “I thought you’d
near be out at this point. How come you have so much wood
left?”
He set his hand high against the cabin and
leaned against the wall. She closed the door a little more, and
Rafe realized he’d been a bit abrupt. He’d have to tone it down to
gain her trust. His eyes shifted down, but she hid behind the door.
He knew her well enough now to imagine one of her fingers spinning
a nervous circle in her skirt fabric. He shifted his gaze to her
face, knowing she watched every move he made. She gave that thin,
one-shouldered shrug.
“I don’t know. Preparing a meal doesn’t
require much of a fire.” Again the shrug.
She only used fuel to cook? He cocked his
head. “You ain’t been keeping a fire?”
He took a step towards her. Her eyes
widened, and she shook her head like a child in trouble. Rafe
grunted and pulled the axe from his shoulder to let it swing to his
side, his hand wrapped around the wooden handle. Jubilee closed the
door a bit more.
Rafe scratched his neck. “Listen, Jubilee. I
want you to burn wood anytime you’re cold. Don’t suffer through
this chilly weather when you’ve got plenty of fuel out here. I
don’t mind keeping you supplied, you understand?”
Her head bobbed up and down.
He took a deep breath. This trust thing
would develop, or at least he hoped so. Just blamed frustrating for
her to fear him so much. He stuck his free hand into his
pocket.
“All right. After breakfast, I’m off to plow
the west field. On Saturday, I’d like to set out the seed in the
garden, and I’d appreciate you being there to see where everything
is planted. The weeding and harvesting will be part of your
chores.”
“It’s not a problem.”
He nodded and started on his way to the barn
when she called to him. He stopped and watched her disappear into
the cabin, then return carrying a colorful quilt. She approached
and handed it to him. “What’s this?”
She stepped back before she replied. “For
you. The barn must get cold,
David Cook, Walter (CON) Velez